Lucky
by Epitome
Summary: Sydney recalls her last mission to try and find the missing pieces to the puzzle. But once she discover the truth shes only just begun to learn that somethings are not all that they seem to be.


TITLE: Lucky  
  
RATING: PG-13 (language)  
  
SUMMARY: Not everything is as it seems. Sydney recalls her last mission to try and piece together a fuzzy picture. After "Firebomb" but with no real relevance, I take it as I choose. Actually this summary sucks b.c I just have no idea how to summarize it. Possibly S/V S/S I'm not sure. It starts with her recalling and then the actions after she has in "present" time  
  
DISTRIBUTION: If your crazy enough sure just email me first.  
  
EMAIL: xoxsweetrelief@aol.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: I, Cindy Crawford, own ALIAS, ABC, Bad Robot, J.J. Abrams, Michael Vartan, David Anders, Josh Groban, Bradely Cooper, and all the hersheys chocolate in the world.  
  
----------------  
  
It was a monday, when my lover told me,   
"never pay the reaper with love only."   
what could I say to you, except, "I love you."   
and "I'd give my life for yours."   
  
I know we are: we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are: we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are: we are the lucky ones, dear.  
  
-Bif Naked "Lucky"  
  
-------------------  
  
The only thing that is clear about that night was that it was dark, cold and I wasn't alone. The rest of the facts are quite blurry. My mind filled with fog like that which rises off a lake on a cold winters day. It's thick and eerie and taints my vision with hazy illusions.  
  
I suppose I should start at the beginning of what I can remember.  
  
It had been a Tuesday in March, just last week actually, when I got a call from Kendall. He said it was urgent, that I must get down there immediately. Before I could ask any questions my ear was met with the shrill annoyance of the dial tone. I sighed heavily looking at my cell phone. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I barely heard someone come up behind me.  
  
A cold hand came down on my shoulder. My back tensed as I felt puffs of hot air pulsating on my neck. Slowly I turned around, my heart beating wildly. I was uncertain what or who would be standing behind me. My mind was rattling off names left and right of people who would want to kill and/or scare me to death.  
  
My heart leaped as I caught sight of the perpetrator.  
  
"Francie!" My hand flew up to clutch my heart. It wasn't some cold assassin, it wasn't some goon of an enemy, it was my best friend. Francie smiled eerily at me.  
  
"I hope I didn't scare you too much, I just need to find my briefcase." I raised and eyebrow at Francie. Something had been off with her lately. It's as him she's not herself rather an actor playing the part.  
I mentally kicked myself, How could I be having these thoughts? Francie was the one person in my life who was innocent to my lifestyle, I was just becoming too paranoid.  
  
"Oh it's by the door." Francie thanked me, smiled then turned and left the room. She didn't even walk like herself. Her feet, which normally hit the ground lightly and rhythmically now stomped and trudged heavily as she made her way to the front door and left.  
  
Was I being paranoid?  
  
Maybe, maybe not. I was, however, being very late for an urgent and most likely important meeting.  
  
By the time I got to headquarters everyone was already assembled and seated. I shook off Kendall's glare and took my seat next to my father. To my right my father nodded to acknowledge me and across the table Vaughn smiled at me. I returned similar gestures towards the two before we turned our attention to a very pissed looking director. Kendall let out a loud sigh before a picture flashed across the screen of computer screens across the room. I was soon face-to-face with a certain blonde haired, blue eyed lap dog of Sloane's. Sark. This urgent piece of business had to do with that cocky son-of-a-bitch? Even in the picture sarcasm flowed out his every pore, he looked bored and agitated. How could the photographer-or whoever to the picture stand to look at his face over and over again?  
  
I wouldn't and couldn't. I soon decided that he wasn't worth my attention and I let my eyes wander across the room. They settled immediately one a certain green eyed handler. Vaughn. How can I try to explain to you? Vaughn is ... amazing. For the longest time I had to admire him from afar. Not only is there CIA protocol, but that little pebble in my shoe: SD-6. If I was ever seen with him we would have both been killed.  
  
I had fought my feelings for so long. At first I was mourning the death of my fiance, Danny, but when it was finally time to move on I couldn't fall in love with my handler, it was unprofessional. But as time went on I couldn't fight it. I'm in love with Michael Vaughn. When SD-6 was finally taken down we shared our first kiss. Now we can go on dates, go over each others' places, and we don't need to worry about some psychotic old man ordering hits against us.  
  
Well, that's not entirely true. After the destruction of SD-6 Sloane went on the run. That sick son-of-a-bitch kidnapped a scientist and his family, and forced him to build a weapon of mass destruction. We went to Switzerland to try and stop Sloane but he threatened to blow a bank and then proceeded to use me as a way to get out and forced me to be his driver, that bastard. Then he put this weapon to work in Mexico while we were there. Luckily we got out on time but we had to go back to see what had happened. It was sick. Inside the church were mounds of ashes, the ashes of innocent people stuck in his twisted game of Risk. After you've seen things as horrible as this your never the same. You can only imagine what it would have been like to have been there when it happened, to feel your insides burning away. My mind is still going through all the what-ifs?  
  
What if we had gotten there 2 minutes later? What if Vaughn never got Weiss's call? What if we were still in the building when it had gone off?  
  
I suffer now from frequent nightmares. The faces of who those people could have been, people I know and love. People with families and friends and lives to be lived. The faces as their fleshed burns. The faces as they saw other people's flesh burn. The faces of those who will be faceless forever. I've never wanted to kill Sloane so much before.  
  
Anger burns through my veins and brands my mind. I will never rest until he is dead, until I have killed him myself. I wake up every morning hoping today is the day Arvin Sloane is destroyed. Everyday a fire is lit in my soul, yet everyday I'm disappointed.  
  
You may now be wondering what happened to my CIA meeting. Honestly- I don't know. I had spaced out the moment I arrived. I shook my head and came out of my reverie only to be greeted by Kendall's ugly face.  
  
"Ms. Bristow, have you heard a word I said?" Kendall folded his arms across his chest. Why did he always do that? Every time he was annoyed, anxious, mad, etc., etc., etc., he would fold his God damn arms over his God damn chest!  
  
He didn't even wait for me to responded, instead he let an exasperated breath and started over again.  
  
"Sark has been seen in Cozumel, Mexico meeting with a Russian arms dealer named Ivan Konivsiky. What we find strange about this is that he told Sloane he was going to be in NYC to get some 'affairs' in order."  
  
My head was spinning. Sark lying to Sloane about a meeting? It didn't make sense. Sark seemed loyal to Sloane, he was his puppy, why would he have snuck behind his back?  
  
"But ... why?" I asked unable to mask my confusion.  
  
"We don't know, but we're going to find out. Ms. Bristow and Mr.Vaughn, you leave in an hour."  
  
As everyone filled out of the room Vaughn caught up with me. He looked as confused as I felt.  
  
"What is Sark up to?" He asked me as we rode the elevator up and left the joint-ops center.  
  
I shook my head, unable to formulate a semi-logical explanation.  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
As I recall this story I am able to see slightly through the mists.  
  
Sark.  
  
Something big happened with Sark. It's strange, I don't feel my stomach turn as I think about him. But why? Why this new front?  
---------------------------------------------------------  
AN: This is a little something I was inspired to write. Look for some more but it wont be a very long story b.c I currently have another story going (READ BELOW) I don't really like this POV writing but it fit for this part of this story. I may or may not continue that way. Tell me what you think! The song at the beginning will make sense later on, it's what inspired this. Also Good or bad tell me any thoughts you have: PLEASE REVIEW!  
--  
AN2 : Ok, I know people who read Alyssa and Julie's Excellent Adventure, Your going to kill me for posting this and not Somemore of that but I'm having major writers block and I mean I have written some but it's not very good or insane. I'm really jsut trying to ride this bit of WB out so I can give you a new chappy in all its absurdity!! But please bare with me just a wee but longer! And I will always LOVE and APPRECIATE some ideas!!!!! so reply (NOW!) and then if you wish you can email me and help! xoxsweetrelief@aol.com  
  
-Julie 


End file.
